Waltz of the Duck
by Dio Crescendo
Summary: Duck returned Mytho's heart shards to him and returned to being a duck. Everyone lived happily ever after... or did they? When Drosselmeyer appears and offers Fakir a chance for him and Duck to star in a new story, what will happen to the tragic heroine, Princess Tutu? Rated T for language, maybe some violence, stuff like that.
1. Chapter 1

_Once upon a time_… "Kaah! I can't open the story like that; it has to be something more impressive!" Fakir tore the page out of his notebook, crumpled it up, and threw it over toward his two other rejects. He looked down at the bare white paper in front of him and frowned.

[_**The young man thought back to the day that changed his life forever, the day that he saved, yet at the same time lost, his beloved little Duck.**_]

"Karon says it hasn't even been a year yet, but it feels like forever, "Fakir said to himself as he leaned back against the tree, reminiscing of that day. "She returned the last of Mytho's heart to him and saved everyone from the Raven. Mytho returned to the story with Rue in tow, and they lived happily ever after. However, Duck, the real heroine, just barely escaped the genre of tragedy." Fakir sighed. "It's just not fair." He looked out across the lake and saw the beautiful little duck, peacefully bobbing up and down with the gentle waves. "And what have I accomplished in these few months since then?" Fakir asked himself aloud. "Nothing. I've written countless attempts at stories, but I can rarely ever finish one. And the ones that I do manage to write through to the end never come true." He gazed sadly out at Duck. "I know I was the one who said that we should all return to being our true selves, but it just feels so lonely without her. Its definately not the same seeing her as a duck, and I know she isn't happy this way either," he said as he looked out at Duck, who, at a glance, appeared to be floating on the water the same way any other waterfowl would. He knew her too well to believe that, though. She had her head tilted down, staring at her own reflection as if it would change any minute. Rather, she was hoping it would change. "I wish I could do something for her. I want to save her!" He fisted his hand and slammed it against his notebook.

Duck floated across the water, letting herself be carried whichever way the wind took her. She didn't really realize it at first, but a duck's life is actually pretty boring. At least it is once you have tasted the sweet fruit called 'humanity'. While on the water like this, she would often think such thoughts- thoughts that an average bird would never be capable of realizing, and thoughts that an average human would never be inspired to dwell so deeply on. The hardest part for her was accepting the new reality. She knew going into it that once she endowed her own heart shard to Mytho, she would revert to her old form of a duck. "It's just one of those things that's a lot easier said than done I guess," she looked up toward the sky, trying to welcome some happier thoughts into her mind. Figures that it would be overcast today. "Well, I wonder if Mytho is okay, after he got his whole heart back? Now he can be truly happy and he can love Rue... Actually, now that I think about it, it didn't really bother me as much as I thought it would when the Mytho went back into the story with Rue as his princess. In 'The Prince and the Raven', Princess Tutu was in love with the prince, and she even confessed her love to him," she tried to forget the part when her past persona disappeared as a flash of light. Even though she never experienced it herself, it was still like a bad memory to her. "But if that's true, then shouldn't I have been heartbroken? Was that truly love that I felt for Mytho then?" As Duck thought contemplated this, she glanced over at Fakir, who looked like he was trying to trace the shapes of the amorphous clouds with his quill. "And if it was love for Mytho I felt, then what is this I feel when I'm thinking of Fakir?" A rosy blush found its way across the yellow feathers of her cheeks. Then the harshness of reality hit her. She scolded herself, "No-no-no-no-no! I'm just a duck now so it doesn't matter anyway," then in a depressed tone, "I can't love anyone…" Duck sighed as she looked back down at her reflection.

[_**The poor little Duck has become quite depressed. Her unhappiness will only grow stronger from here, until the moment which she is finally unable to take anymore…]**_

After sitting at the lake for over an hour and a half doing nothing, Fakir decided it was about time to get something accomplished. He went home to ask Karen if he needed anything, and of course he asked Duck if she wanted to come with him. Usually, she would come along and hitch a ride on one of Fakir's shoulders. This time, however, she only looked up at him, shook her feathered head, and looked back down. Heartbroken at the melancholy reaction he got from the previously bubbly and overly enthusiastic red-head, Fakir packed up his things and left toward the town.

The young man was well on his way to the market when he heard a faint drumming coming from behind him. He stopped, unsure if he wanted to look behind him. Could it really be possible? He turned around, and his suspicions were confirmed. A little green-haired puppet girl was running full force toward him. "Fakir! I found you, zura!" "Uzura," he said as he crouched down to catch her. "What are you doing here? I thought you went- well actually, where did you go?" Uzura looked up at him with her big blue enameled eyes as she answered, "Mr. Drosselmeyer said that since I'm his puppet the rules were that I had to go with him, zura. I don't know what that means, though, zura." Fakir didn't even hear half of what Uzura said; as soon as he heard the name, 'Drosselmeyer', he felt his stomach drop through his feet and a trickle of sweat run down his neck. Then, as if on cue, the already overcast sky grew thirty shades darker. Even though the slight breeze in the air had ceased, Fakir felt a chill creep over him. Time had stopped moving.

A tall antique grandfather clock appeared out of nowhere, likely in the exact spot that Uzura had come from. As the front of the clock slowly opened like the door to a haunted house, an old man's voice scolded, "Uzura, I told you not to run ahead! What fun is it when a character can already expect what's coming to him?" As a worn out brown boot connected with the ground, the clock opened the entire way, exposing a gaudily dressed old man. He opened his arms in an overly dramatic manner as he said, "I was planning a much grander entrance for myself." His bright red cape swayed with his movements, then came to a rest across his back, under the shadow of his kaleidoscopic hat.

Fakir had risen to a stance that made it clear he was ready to attack at a moment's notice. "Drosselmeyer. What the hell are you doing here?" Fakir asked, although it sounded more like a threat than a question. Drosselmeyer took a few steps forward as he spoke, "Now, I expected a much grander welcome as well." The old man took a step forward, about to make another criticism, but Fakir cut him off, "I asked you what you're doing here. You have no business with any of us anymore." A smirk crept across the Drosselmeyer's face. "Oh, but I do have business here! Actually, I have an offer that I must suggest to you." Fakir once again cut him off. "I don't need anything from you, you demented old man." Drosselmeyer gasped as dramatically as he could and replied, "That is so hurtful! To think I would be hated so bitterly by my own blood!" "Then why don't you go home and cry about it?" Fakir wished that that would be enough to send Drosselmeyer away, and he almost thought that his wish was granted when the old man disappeared from before him. The old man's voice, however, was not gone, and it was actually coming from behind Fakir, "So back to business." Fakir spun around as fast as he could without falling over, becoming face to face with his ancestor. He quickly took a few steps back, trying to keep a safe distance. Drosselmeyer started speaking again, "It's actually more like a favor that I want you to do for me. See, it's something that only you can do." He stopped and took a second to look straight at Fakir, to make sure he was paying attention to him. The younger of the two didn't want to hear anything the old author had to say, but he figured that he was getting nowhere like this. Drosselmeyer would hold him hostage in his gap-in-time until he got what he wanted out of him. "Fine," Fakir sighed, "What is this magnanimous offer of yours?" "I'm glad you asked!" Drosselmeyer once again disappeared, but this time, he instantaneously reappeared right next to Fakir, wearing a pair of cracked reading glasses and holding a large leatherbound book in both hands. "This is the only book that I have yet to finish. But I couldn't figure out the rest of the story because of this damn hindrance called 'writer's block." The old man cackled as if he'd just heard the funniest joke in the world. Fakir gave Drosselmeyer an apprehensive look. "So what exactly does this have to do with me?" Drosselmeyer let go of the book to throw his hands up in the air, however, the book stayed floating in the same place it had been, "I want you to go inside this book and finish my story for me! And of course you'll be taking little Duck with you."

Fakir thought back to the times when Drosselmeyer had had anything to do with Duck. The Lake of Despair. The crows attacking Duck's defenseless bird body. No, nothing good ever happened when Drosselmeyer and Duck were together. However, if it wasn't for the old man, Duck would have never become a girl, and he never would have met her. But that also means he never would have grown so attached to her and so miserable now that she's no longer human. Fakir figured it was best not to trust the man after all of that. "Duck has nothing to do with this. Leave her out of it and I'll help you," Fakir said, immediately regretting it, but if he didn't agree, the old man might try to go after Duck. And Fakir absolutely would not have that. Drosselmeyer spoke, "Sorry, but it seems that Duck has to be involved. See? She's already in the story." Drosselmeyer flipped the old book open and showed it to Fakir. He skimmed the page in front of him.

'_**The young man wrote story after story… the unhappy duck… both crying in their own way… go to the lake and sit by the tree… thought back to the day that changed his life forever… beloved little Duck… became quite depressed...'**_

"This last part… all of this happened today!" Fakir grew angrier as he thought about it, "You have been interfering with our lives! You made Duck unhappy! You made each of my stories a failure! It's all your fault!" Drosselmeyer calmly replied, "Now, now. I had to make it so that you were able to help me with my story," a shadow grew over his face, "and to show you what I could do if you decided not to."

Fakir realized that he was completely screwed. If he and Duck went into Drosselmeyer's story, who knows what would happen to them, with the old man in charge. Fakir didn't even know what kind of story it was. But did it really matter, because if they didn't go, they would likely be tortured by the lunatic writing the story of their own real lives. Fakir thought about it for a few moments, then decided, "I… I guess we'll help you with your story. Duck and I." Drosselmeyer's smile grew as wide as an ocean liner. "Magnificent! I knew you would make the correct choice!" He began scribbling in the old book.

_**[The little yellow duck that he loved so much appeared.]**_

Drosselmeyer took off his hat, reached in, and pulled out a very familiar duck.

_**[The young man took her into his arms, and held her tightly.]**_

Fakir walked over to Drosselmeyer and let Duck jump into his arms. He held her protectively, close to his chest.

_**[A cloud of silver smoke began pooling around them, and as it grew bigger, consuming the two, they disappeared without a trace into the story.]**_


	2. Chapter 2

When Duck woke up, she was lying in a plush bed, which was against the back wall of a room she'd never been in before. She sat up and realized that she was not alone. Fakir was lying next to her. She spazzed a bit and while trying to distance herself, fell backward onto the floor. Then she noticed something strange. It looked like… someone's foot? Duck had missed having feet so much since she'd become a bird again. She wiggled her own webbed feet, wishing that they were human like this one. But when she did that, a strange thing happened- this foot moved at the exact same time, in the exact same way. No, that couldn't be right… could it? "If I have a foot, that means..!" She stood up much too quickly and almost fell over again. She brought her hands- yes, hands- up to her face and stared at them in awe. She spun around and confirmed that she no longer had a tail either. Duck was human again.

She remembered Fakir was in the bed and ran over to tell him. "Fakir! Fakir, look!" she squealed like a little girl on Christmas morning. Fakir woke up; at first he was irritated to be awoken like that, but he immediately got his bearings. "Duck, you're human!" Duck's smile was at least 40 watts brighter than the last time Fakir remembered seeing her face happy and unfeathered. "It must be Drosselmeyer's doing," Fakir's expression grew darker as he tried to think of what the old man was up to this time. Duck was confused, "Drosselmeyer?" she asked. Fakir replied, "That's right, you weren't with me when I was talking to him; you stayed at the lake." He took a couple minutes to fill Duck in on all that had happened.

"Oh..," Duck said, "Well I guess that does make sense then, the fact that I'm human again." "But," Fakir voiced his concern, "Why is it that Drosselmeyer wants you as a human? There must be some reason behind it, and I'm afraid that it's not just out of the goodness of his heart."

"Fakir, Fakir. Ever the pessimist," a new, yet old voice entered the conversation as a pair of eyes popped out of the space before them, growing into a face, and finally the whole body appeared. Duck was impressed by Drosselmeyer's choice of entrance, but Fakir was more wary of the old man, protectively taking a step in front of Duck. Drosselmeyer looked past him as if he were a ghost and spoke to the red-head, "Why, hello, little Duck! How nice it is to see you again!" Duck answered politely, "Hi, Mr. Drosselmeyer." Fakir shot a look at Duck and tried to telepathically tell her not to speak to the old lunatic, but Duck never was very good at those type of things. Drosselmeyer continued their conversation, "Tell me, how is that new body working for you?"

Duck couldn't help but smile at the fact that she was once again human. "It's perfect, just like last time when you let me become a girl. Thank you very much!"

Fakir couldn't take this anymore, the both of them acting as if nothing were wrong. "Hey, Drosselmeyer. We didn't come here to hear your smalltalk. Just tell us about this story of yours so we can get through it and be on our way." "You're in quite a hurry, there," Drosselmeyer said to him, "Sorry, but I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to cancel all of your prior engagements. You agreed to play a role in MY story, so in order to leave said story, you will have to complete all the tasks I present you with." Fakir replied instantly, "And what exactly are these 'tasks'?" Drosselmeyer ignored the young man and instead turned his attention back to Duck. "Now, Duck, about that necklace you're wearing…" Duck looked down and saw what he was talking about. She had been so excited about becoming human, she hadn't even noticed it before now. "Wow, it's beautiful!" Duck couldn't help but to comment on it. The main part of the pendant was shaped like a heart and sparkled with every color of the rainbow. Coming out from the center, were a pair of angel- actually, they looked more similar to a swan's wings. She looked back up at Drosselmeyer, who had started talking again, "This is a very special jewel. I had it custom made just for you, dear. Like the pendant you had the last time you were able to become human, this one will also let you become Princess Tutu." " Wha-? Really?!" That made Duck very excited. She had always loved transforming into Tutu. She was so graceful, beautiful, magical; if it hadn't been for Princess Tutu, Duck would never have been able to save Mytho (or any of the people who had possessed his heart shards), and she'd never have become so close to Fakir. Drosselmeyer snapped Duck back out of her own little world and continued with his explanation. "When you wish to transform into Princess Tutu, put your hands like this around the pendant," his wrinkled fingers adjusted themselves into a heart shape. Duck wanted to try it, "Like this..?" she said while forming her hands into a heart around the necklace.

Duck figured she must have done it right because the jewel started glowing. Then Duck's hands started glowing, and her whole body became rainbow-sparkled like the jewel. Duck was awestruck; she was transforming into Tutu again! She honestly thought that after she gave up the last heart shard to Mytho, she would never again get to feel this great power expanding from within her. After what felt like much longer than the few seconds that it actually took her to transform, Duck stepped out of the egg-shaped orb of light. Drosselmeyer spoke up again, "Transformation successful! Duck is no longer just Duck, but now, once again, Princess Tutu!"

Fakir felt kind of bad for staring at her, but he could not look away. Duck wasn't just human, but also Princess Tutu again, although this time, she looked a bit different. The most notable difference was the tutu itself. While the original was pure white, this version of Tutu had rainbow colored sequins all over hers. And there was something else. Fakir couldn't quite tell what it was, but there was just something about this Princess Tutu. Something that made her more… Graceful? Feminine? Beautiful? What was the word he was looking for?

"There is one drawback, however," Drosselmeyer's voice kicked Fakir out of his own thought bubble. Tutu replied to the old man, "What's that?" "Each time you turn into Princess Tutu, the gem in the middle of your pendant will lose some of it's brilliance. And when it stops sparkling altogether, that means the magic has been used up and you won't be able to transform into Tutu ever again!" Drosselmeyer said this with a smile, but Duck, on the other hand, grew a frown on her lips. "Oh, I see. So there's a limit. I can't just transform into Princess Tutu whenever I want, then." "Yes, you've got it," Drosselmeyer told her. Fakir turned back to the elderly man once again. "Exactly how many times will she be able to transform?" Drosselmeyer threw out his arms dramatically as he said, "I haven't the slightest clue. When it happens, it happens. I have no control of it." Fakir was getting irritated with his ancestor once again. "What do you mean you have no control? This is YOUR STORY."

"Oh, that's right!" the author interrupted him, "We're getting off topic here. Now, about the story. There is one task that you must accomplish. And since there is only one thing, I'm expecting you two to complete it perfectly and without major setbacks. If you would like to embrace any form of trouble, misfortune, or tragedy, however, that is fine as long as you make it entertaining." "No thanks," Fakir just about cut him off, "I'd like for the both of us to return to the real world as we are now. No trouble, no tragedy, no misshappenings, no catastrophe, no disaster." The old man pouted, "Oh, you're no fun! But I suppose that's fine as long as you do what I tell you you must. Are you ready for it? Your task in my story is to rescue the princess!" Drosselmeyer said the last bit with a full gauge of enthusiasm. "Okay," Fakir said, "So who's this princess we're rescuing?" "That is unnecessary information," the old man replied. Fakir's stress level was shooting up with each word of nonsense that the old coot was spewing from his mouth. "Let me get this straight. You want us to rescue this 'princess' of yours, but you won't tell us who she is?" Drosselmeyer nodded, "That is absolutely correct. I cannot tell you her identity." Fakir had now lost it and replied angrily, "Why the hell not?!" Drosselmeyer smirked, "Spoilers, my boy. What would a story be if the characters all knew how it would play out? There would be no motivation. No climax. No interest-" The decrepit old man was planning to continue his lecture a bit longer, but it was Tutu who spoke up this time to interrupt him. "But Mr. Drosselmeyer, if we don't have any idea who this princess is, how will we ever find her?" He thought about it for a moment, "Well, my dear, I suppose that is a good point. I can't have you just running around all willy-nilly. You need direction, yes?" Tutu nodded confirmation, "Yes please, Mr. Drosselmeyer, sir." "That's exactly what I was saying!" Fakir said; he was still very unhappy with the whole situation. Drosselmeyer didn't bother to look at the young man as he replied, "All I heard from you were complaints." He appeared to be looking for something in his pockets, cloak, and any other storage that he had on him. He took off his hat and reached inside, then pulled out a map. "Here you go, Duck. This map will take you to the castle where you will find the princess." Tutu received the old piece of paper from the equally old man and thanked him. Fakir walked over to look at the map and Tutu spoke again, "Mr. Drosselmeyer, I have one more question-" "Sorry, Duck but I must be going right now. I've stayed much longer than I should have. Any more time spent here could affect the whole story!" Drosselmeyer waved his arms and his favorite grandfather-clock-shaped multidimensional door appeared. "I'm wishing you the best of luck on your journey, Princess Tutu! Whatever you do make sure it's interesting!" Tutu waved to him as he left. She turned back to Fakir, and as she did, she heard a "poof" and felt the extra magic drain out of her. She looked at the pendant, and while it wasn't very noticeable, it was true that it wasn't shining quite as brightly as before. "Well, I guess that answers my question, anyway," she said to herself.

Fakir had now figured out how to read the map. He showed Duck the path that they had to take to get to the castle. It seemed simple enough. They only had to pass through the edge of a nearby forest and the castle would be just a little ways past there. Fakir looked at Duck and asked her, "Are you ready for this?" Duck's blue eyes reflected her determination as she replied, "Of course."


End file.
